The One In Red Jeans
by whitenightshadows
Summary: When Santana can't meet her deadline, Kurt ends up writing an agony aunt column for NYU's newspaper, much to the pleasure of his idol, the editor of the paper, the mysterious Dalton. From then on, Kurt's alias, the Cheerleader and Dalton begin forming a friendship via texts. Unbeknownst to them, Dalton is also Kurt's employee at Café Noir and has an enormous crush on his manager.


**Well, this idea just came to me one sleepless morning (hence the complicated starting position), and even though I'm currently working on a very different kind of story, I simply had to write this. I hope you'll all like it enough to give it a try (and maybe even leave a review). Have fun!**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or its characters, and in case Café Noir actually exists, I don't own that either, nor am I being paid to promote it. Unfortunately. Now that I think about it, I should've checked this and tried to get some money out of it. Hmm…**

**The One In Red Jeans **

Roughly 90 years ago, a group of boys – all members of the Writing Club - established the _Opinion_. They intended it to become the official newspaper of NYU, from which all students could get the most important information regarding events on the campus, could familiarize themselves with current topics and had a chance to read articles analyzing debates.

It quickly became a weekly paper that contained about twenty articles per issue. It could by no means be considered a big paper, but it suited the taste and needs of the students' just fine. And most importantly, it had one overriding appeal; the identity of the journalists was a secret.

Thus began a tradition that would, even a century later, still exist. The staff of the _Opinion_ was still unknown, something that intrigued every student at NYU; they used a considerable amount of their free time trying to guess which classmate, which friend hid behind an alias, but it was to no avail. Even in 2013, the most important rule in the editorial office was not to let anyone (other than your fellow journalists) know who you were.

And that is why, Blaine mused, everyone was fawning over 'Dalton', the popular and respected editor of the _Opinion_, but no one paid any extra attention to Blaine himself, the man behind the alias. Not that Blaine minded that; he had such a terrible case of stage fright, that it was probably for the best that no one suspected his true identity, otherwise he wouldn't be able to write freely anymore, knowing that people would be judging him instead of Dalton. Still, he thought, sometimes it would be nice to be appreciated in his short, gel-using self and not just as some idolized, mystical figure.

Blaine sighed as he watched the next issue being printed out and wondered how the student body will react to the change he'd made that very day. Personally, he thought the new style of that particular section should be a big hit, for it was beyond hilarious, but he couldn't be sure and found himself being slightly afraid of the risk he'd taken. Not that it counted; there was no way to stuff the paper back into the printer and come up with a new version.

…

Just hours before Blaine was supervising the printing process, Kurt had been watching Santana's computer. He knew very well Santana was at Brittany's, but his roommate's computer kept signaling new messages and it was driving him crazy. He was aware that Santana had taken on a new job; she had told him that a friend of hers asked her to reform the _Opinion_'s Agony Aunt column, to bring some life into it with her forwardness and sarcasm. Kurt believed this was a good idea, for the _Opinion_ was quite an amazing newspaper, though it rather resembled a magazine (it had an Agony Aunt section for God's sake) instead of a regular newspaper.

But magazine or not, most of the articles were actually quite deep and sometimes witty, there weren't any grammatical mistakes ever, and the editor's own section – The Coin – was definitely worth reading. Kurt absolutely loved how Dalton would inspect and accurately describe both sides of a debate without influencing the readers or forcing them to pick sides. It was a tough job, or so he thought, but it gave quality to the paper. Now that Kurt thought about it, the standard of the _Opinion_ had been going up ever since Dalton had taken over.

And that was why Kurt absolutely had to open Santana's letters, because what if they came from Dalton? What if he was asking something from her and she was ignoring it? What if she was hindering Dalton's work?

Such a train of thought bothered Kurt to no end, so with shaky fingers he clicked on the envelope sign.

As the sight of Santana's mailbox sunk in, Kurt knew she was in trouble. He managed to count about fifty new messages, mostly from readers, but there was one from Dalton, too. He'd sent it this morning and it said Santana's deadline was at 7 pm. Kurt glanced at the clock. Santana had a little over an hour.

Kurt collected his thoughts and took a second to analyze the situation. Santana was about half an hour away from her computer. Once she got to the apartment, she'd have to read through all the messages, pick a few and answer them. Then she'd have to check for typos and general appropriateness and then send it to Dalton. That is, if he could reach her right now and she'd be on her way immediately. The conclusion was quite clear – she could never make it.

The next day, when he explained it to a perfectly clueless Santana that he'd saved her ass and completed her task in time, he implied that it wasn't out of pity for her, but because he wanted to help Dalton. But he knew that these explanations weren't completely true. He knew it very well that when he clicked on the first letter, he wanted to read the questions and wanted to answer all the readers. After all, wasn't he sarcastic? Couldn't he write just as witty responses as Santana?

So, just hours before Blaine was staring at the printer, Kurt decided to write that week's Agony Aunt column. It would probably be good for his temper anyway; he could relieve some stress by telling his opinions (his true opinions) to everyone who otherwise just annoyed him with their idiotic problems. And besides, wouldn't it suit him to reform the clichéd and tedious section? Wouldn't it be the perfect challenge to make this admittedly lame column into it a fabulous and beloved one?

Kurt began to type.

…

"Hey! Blaine!" came a voice from behind Blaine, followed by an arm tugging on his sleeve and making him stop in his tracks. He was met with David's excited, cheerful face. "Have you read today's _Opinion_?" Blaine shook his head; incognito is incognito after all, even if it meant hiding something from your best friend. "Oh, you'll never believe this. Dalton found a new journalist, she's called the Cheerleader, and she's in charge of the Agony Aunt! And Blaine, the advice she gives… this is gold."

Blaine wanted so desperately to feel proud and happy, but something was stuck in his mind. "She?"

David just shot him an incredulous look. "It's the Cheerleader, Blaine," he replied, emphasizing every syllable. "No guy calls himself that. Because cheerleaders are girls."

Blaine felt relieved. No one knew it was Santana, they just guessed her gender because of the name. "That's cool. I'm gonna read it later, ok?"

David was, luckily, far too excited to notice Blaine's change of mood. "Whatever man, just read it, trust me, it's awesome. I gotta show it to Wes. Keep that, I have another copy," with that he waved goodbye, leaving the crumpled paper in Blaine's hands.

Blaine turned to the last page and read the familiar lines again.

xxx

_- I'd been hooking up with a girl for a couple of weeks in the summer. Apparently, she thought we were dating and now that she's pregnant, she wants me to take responsibility. I'm not exactly sure the kid is mine and besides, I don't want to become a father just yet. When I told her that, she threatened that her Midwestern Dad is on his way here and said he had a shotgun. Do you think she meant it? What am I supposed to do? – Joe, 19_

_- To quote the experts here: "Run, Joey, Run."_

_xxx_

_-My boyfriend is always snapping at me and he never says he loves me anymore. Even when we go on dates, he doesn't care, he's just always so angry. It seems everything I do is wrong and we fight all the time. Even if it starts out as something petty, our arguments always blow up and I'm tired of him yelling at me all the time. I'm afraid he wants to break up with me. How can I stop us fighting? – Amanda, 21_

_- Shove your hands down his pants. Works. Every. Time._

_xxx_

_- My friends took me to a bar for my 21__st__ birthday and I drank way too much. I was throwing up all night and in the end, they had to take me to the detox. The doctor called my parents and now they want to talk to me face to face. What should I do? – Max, 21_

_- Rinse, rinse, gargle, spit._

_xxx_

Blaine grinned widely; yes, hiring Santana was turning out to be a huge success.

…

Kurt was tapping impatiently with his foot as he looked around the back of the coffee shop. He had been a manager here for two months now and he liked to think it was due to his abilities that so many customers were visiting the café daily. When he took the shop over, he had to realize that much like the owner had described, _Café Noir_ was on the verge of closing down, so he reexamined the staff, fired and hired and spent his time equally distributed between helping the new employees settle in and ruling with an iron fist. He knew he was tough, but he was never cruel or mean, and in the end it was all for the good of the shop anyway.

And truth be told, the business had been running smoothly ever since he'd started working. There was only one exception, and that was…

"Blaine!" Kurt called out. "How many times have I told you to wash those straws before you use them? Honestly, it's hardly rocket science," Kurt reprimanded the boy. He had hired this Blaine Anderson four weeks ago and he was starting to regret that decision. True, Blaine was very diligent, very eager to work, but he also often spaced out and kept making mistakes. It hadn't reached the point where Kurt would be obligated to sack him, but they were getting closer day by day.

Like now, when Blaine proved yet again that he was unable to follow the simplest of instructions. Kurt drew a deep, calming breath.

"I'm sorry, I thought they were clean. I've just opened the package," Blaine replied, obviously scared.

Kurt just furrowed his eyebrows. "Next time, wash them anyway." _Why must I keep repeating every single instruction?_

Blaine just blushed a dark shade of red and continued working with his head down. Unbeknownst to him, this exact behavior was what prevented Kurt from getting rid of him; he felt for the boy because he could see how hard Blaine was trying.

Kurt turned away to focus his attention on the others and hurriedly walked to the counter as he noticed that the baristas were too slow and therefore the line was getting longer. He blamed himself for Blaine's mistakes: were he a better manager, he'd know what tasks Blaine was best suited for. But in reality, he had no clue. He tried having Blaine as a proper barista, but he obviously had some sort of stage fright and just stammered and panicked when taking the customers' orders. So Kurt told him to work in the back. He wasn't terrible at preparing the drinks and sandwiches, but sometimes he'd take too long or make a mistake and have to start all over again, so, in the name of efficiency, Kurt was forced to remove him from there as well. In the end, Blaine became the boy who washed the dishes and put the contents of the packages (the cups, glasses and machines) to the right shelves and into the drawers. It was a slightly humiliating task for a fellow NYU student, Kurt knew, but someone had to take care of it, and at least Blaine managed there. The other option was firing him.

Kurt put on a smile as he greeted the next person in line. He couldn't fathom how anyone could be afraid of such a task and made a mental note to try to help Blaine with his phobia. As he handed the coffee to a customer, he realized he'd never have the time to tutor Blaine; he was a university student as well, his job as a manager was very demanding (even if he only worked for one shift per day) and if he took on the Agony Aunt column for good, he'd hardly have time to die. He'd settle for handling Blaine's problems when there was absolutely no escaping them.

…

Meanwhile, things were looking up for Blaine. The _Opinion_ was more popular than ever, his grades were excellent and he finally felt like his job was safe at _Café Noir_. That didn't mean, of course, that Kurt stopped criticizing him, but it happened less and less often, so he had reason to hope that finally he could have some peace and quiet living as an undergrad student. Pretty awesome when you think about it, because he couldn't afford losing his job; sure, it didn't pay much, but he didn't have to work every day and it actually wasn't hard. A bit difficult, but not very exhausting. Not to mention he got to secretly stare at Kurt for hours, which made the time spent working all the sweeter.

Plus, people loved Santana. The Agony Aunt section was on its way to become the most attractive column of the whole paper (along with The Coin) and Dalton was probably the most respected phantom-student on campus. Just today, Wes passed him several notes quoting his favorite parts from the newspaper:

_Blaine, have you read Kim, 20? _

"_-Hi, Cheerleader, I'm really in love with this guy, but I feel like he doesn't notice me at all. I tried the usual ways, but until now, nothing's worked. I want to get closer to him, but I have no idea how that could be arranged. I want him to see me for who I am, to notice me and love me. Please help!" _

"_- Judging from past experiences, don't introduce your widowed father to his single mother, have them fall in love with each other so that they get married and move in together just to get him to be your roommate. You'd think they'll appreciate your efforts, but they really don't."_

_You think she really did that?_

He wondered for a split second, then realized this was Santana they were talking about. She was definitely the type to resort extravagant solutions.

Blaine shook his head at the memory and checked his mailbox. Speak of the devil, there was a message from Santana saying she was going away for the weekend and couldn't make the usual deadline because she'll be on a plane back to Ohio. Blaine replied assuring her it was no problem, he could give her an extra couple of hours. He'd wait it out.

…

Kurt sat down absentmindedly that afternoon in front of his computer. He was supposed to meet Mercedes, but she cancelled at the last minute. She said she got called back for an audition and even though they technically still could've seen each other, Kurt didn't have the heart to make a fuss. This was a huge opportunity for her, after all, and they could always just meet some other time.

He looked around the empty apartment. Santana wasn't home because she was going back to Ohio for the weekend and by now she was surely on the plane. It was a pity, for Kurt felt quite lonely at the moment and it would've been great to talk to someone, even if it was Santana.

Sighing, Kurt shrugged and opened Santana's mailbox. He was still surprised that Santana agreed to letting him write the Agony Aunt column, but she said she really just accepted Dalton's offer because she didn't have the heart to refuse him, so she was actually glad she didn't have to bother with it in the end_. "Porcelain, I would've been working for free if not for you. I actually owe you one for not letting me ruin my reputation."_

Yeah, Santana was weird, but they got along. Although there were qualities about her that Kurt strongly disliked, such as teasing him constantly, they rarely fought. The exception to the rule was when Santana realized he really liked Dalton and offered to tell him his name. Kurt didn't want to hear it because he liked the mystery surrounding the editor and somehow they ended up fighting. But that had been weeks ago.

Kurt smiled to himself; he still didn't know the name and he had proof that Dalton didn't know who he was either. He just kept sending letters praising Santana, but Kurt knew it was, of course, meant for him. Kurt wasn't sure if he was supposed to be excited or ashamed about loving the thrill this entire situation was giving him. He typed a few replies, arranged the article into a nice format and hit send.

A second later he realized with a jolt that Santana was supposed to be sitting on a plane right now.

…

Blaine was furious as Santana sat down opposite him. How dare she? Blaine knew she flew back to Lima, she must have been on a plane, he's seen her photos on Facebook (her mother cooked duck and Santana seemed extremely happy), so that meant she couldn't have sent the e-mail. Maybe she'd been cheating all along. He clenched his jaw and asked, "Could you please explain?"

Santana wasn't her usual condescending, snarky self. Of course she suspected that Blaine wouldn't do anything really, he was too much of a good guy for that, but he could fire her and she'd still have to be grateful to him for not exposing her to the entire student body.

"It just started as an accident. That first week my roommate," Santana was determined not to drag Kurt into this, "saw that my deadline was close and realized I needed some help. Afterwards we just… sort of agreed that we could pretend I was writing it – not like it counts, 'cause I'm not getting any money for it and besides, no one knows I'm supposed to be the one doing it anyway, like, other than you – so, I don't know, that's just how it is."

Blaine raised his eyebrows; that's it? Sensing the mood, Santana quickly added, "Look, I know I screwed it up and I'm sorry, but does it really matter? I mean, yeah, now you know it was my roommate, but that doesn't change the column. It doesn't change that people love it."

Blaine knew she was right. He could hardly just fire Santana and go back to the old-fashioned, boring Agony Aunt. That was not an option. But what then?

"I want to talk to your roommate."

Santana looked taken aback. "I don't think h-my roommate," she suspected she was busted, Blaine must have heard she was going to say 'he', but quickly moved on, hoping Blaine will forget it. "would want that. I mean he doesn't care that much about the column, it's just a fun way of killing time for him. I don't think he'd want to be associated with an Agony Aunt section." It was ridiculous to imagine Kurt as an agony aunt and she was sure Kurt would be upset if anyone found out he was giving advice to a bunch of whiners, as Santana liked to call them. It occurred to her that she had said 'he' again, but whatever, at least she didn't say Kurt.

"And does this he," said Blaine, emphasizing the word, "have a name? A phone number? Is he even a student at NYU?"

"I'm not gonna tell you his name, he'd murder me. And yeah, he's a student here. A junior."

_Like me_, Blaine thought. It was somewhat exciting that he might have classes together with this strange guy who came up with the original, funny, extremely entertaining comments he grew to enjoy so much, but it also annoyed him that the boy was probably a jerk who just laughed at other people's problems; that was just mean. How did Santana put it…? Killing time? What an egotistical person.

But then again, this was Santana. She might be forcing the guy to do it. Blaine sighed. "Okay, I want your roommate's phone number. Right now."

"Why?"

"I want to make sure everything you said is true," Blaine just held up a hand before Santana's protests could burst out. "Don't bother. I want the number, I want to talk to this guy and then you can forget all about it. I will discuss everything with him."

Santana scoffed as she entered the digits into Blaine's cell and turned to leave.

"Wait. I want to see you're not there when he answers."

He typed out a message.

…

Kurt was beyond anxious. Luckily, Santana wasn't mad at him for screwing up, but still, she was with Dalton at that very moment, probably facing an extremely humiliating conversation. He heard his phone signaling a message and he reached for it, hoping it'd be Santana telling him everything was all right.

_From Unknown number: This is Dalton. Santana told me about your arrangement. Answer honestly: is she forcing you to do something?_

Kurt stared at the device in disbelief.

_To Unknown number: No, I'm doing it out of my own free will. What's happening? Did she tell you who I was?_

He changed the name to Dalton and waited for the reply, not knowing that at the very same moment Blaine was just dismissing Santana, promising her that the whole situation is going to remain between them and that they should just forget about it.

_From Dalton: Santana's free to go. You however, whoever you might be, have to keep writing in your column, ok? I can redirect the letters to your e-mail._

Kurt felt his stomach twist in the best way possible: Dalton said it was his column, implying that they are now officially colleagues and that Kurt is a full member of Dalton's staff. Even if it was an Agony Aunt section, the entire situation was very flattering.

_To Dalton: I'm looking forward to working with you… from now on as well._

…

There was no denying it, Blaine was over the moon. He and the Cheerleader (turns out he had actually been a cheerleader) were texting all the time. At first it was a little awkward, telling him he thought his writing was great, but it gave them a constant, evergreen (that was an attribute used by the Cheerleader that had already wormed its way into Blaine's active vocabulary) topic to talk about, so they could always come back to journalism if they found no other subject.

Not that it was necessary, for they could talk for hours. Sometimes it was pure nonsense like discussing the cafeteria food or wondering where certain idioms came from, but most of the time they were sharing past experiences and argued about current events of the world.

Sometimes, when he was bored he just scrolled through their messages, eagerly reading the Cheerleader's texts again.

_No way, from Westerville? I can't believe we grew up just a few hours away!_

_Please, Gaga eats Katy Perry for breakfast and when she's done, she sits down to satisfy her still very much present appetite. And that's me being gentle and low-key with my criticism._

_That's so romantic! The only nice thing about my first kiss was that, to my immense surprise, his breath actually didn't smell all that bad. _

_Ohh, interested, are you? ;) Well, I don't care much for appearances, I'm not that shallow; as far as I'm concerned the only really important trait is that he must be ridiculously rich! :D Why, what's your type?_

The only time Blaine absolutely refused to text was while he was at _Café Noir_. He knew Kurt would bite his head off and he didn't want to give the boy a reason to fire him… Besides, any spare moment he had, he spent it gazing at Kurt.

Beautiful, composed, graceful Kurt. Blaine couldn't comprehend how it was possible for him to still have a crush on him; he had hoped his connection with the (turns out very gay and single) Cheerleader would put an end to his fascination with his manager, but his plan proved inefficient. Kurt had already become pretty much the center of his thoughts and seeing, no, _watching_ him every other day was certainly not helping. Alas, Blaine couldn't stop following Kurt's every elegant, yet firm move, he couldn't look away from his stunning beauty and he most certainly wasn't able to forget the creative, witty remarks he sometimes heard Kurt make when he was conversing with his friends.

"Are you sure you don't just enjoy watching Kurt too much to text?" Wes asked as the three of them sat down for lunch, snapping Blaine out of his reverie.

"Yeah, Blaine, we all know you have a thing for him, no need to pretend anything, man," added David.

Blaine just sent them a stern look. They were constantly teasing him about Kurt, even though there was nothing he could do about his feelings. "Leave it alone, guys. I told you before; yes, Kurt is very attractive, yes, under other circumstances I'd hit on him, but no, it's just a casual appreciation, not a crush and I'm definitely not influenced by it at all." _And that's a lie._

Wes and David shared a look, then Wes began to speak. "Blaine, let me remind you of what you had said on your third day of working with him," he paused and turned his eyes to the wall behind Blaine. "_'He looks absolutely amazing and every time he's close or I can feel him watching me, I get nervous and mess everything up._'" Blaine couldn't deny that. "It's obvious you like him. You're flustered when he's around, you screw things up, it's perfectly normal. We've all been there. I'm just saying you're not texting this guy because it doesn't feel right when Kurt's around."

"I do not have a thing for Kurt Hummel," Blaine exclaimed, face beet-red, even though he knew it best he had an enormous crush on the boy. "Will you just stop? I like the Ch-," he stopped abruptly, remembering he told his friends he and his text-buddy had met online, "I like him," he waved his phone in his friends' faces, "I don't talk to him on the job because I'd get fired. End of story."

Before the conversation could go on, his phone beeped.

_From Cheerleader: Movie date tonight?_

Blaine choked on a breath; he wanted to meet him? But then what has all the secrecy been about until now? And more importantly, was he ready to meet the Cheerleader? Blaine suspected the Cheerleader had a thing for him (he was usually kind of flirty and Blaine had already noticed that his own behavior, although unintentionally, had only been encouraging him since the beginning), so wouldn't meeting him mean leading the poor guy on? Truth be told, they got on exceptionally well, but Blaine was still unsure about his feelings toward him; did he want to date him or was he simply seeking his friendship?

And really, was he ready for a more direct, more intimate relationship?

_From Cheerleader: I was thinking we could watch something and discuss our opinions afterwards. I know it'd probably be better in person, but this is pretty exciting, too, don't you think? So, what do you say? Les Mis?_

Blaine looked at his friends and thought about Kurt.

_To Cheerleader: It's a date._

…

Countless messages and dozens of movie dates later Kurt had to admit to himself that he was utterly smitten. He had already liked Dalton for his writing, but getting to know him through their texts was so much more satisfying. And they had so much in common! For instance, they both read Vogue, they loved music, movies and theatre, they were interested in the same political issues, both of them grew up in Ohio (who knew he chose his cover-name after his old school? By the way, he said he thinks his friends suspect Dalton's him, but they hadn't called him out on it) and most importantly, it seemed they enjoyed each other's company equally.

It also helped that they could talk about literally everything, ranging from a general discussion on monkeys to recalling their darkest, most depressed moments from high school.

_To Dalton: Have you ever given any thought to your future? I mean, do you want to stay a journalist / editor forever?_

_To Dalton: Obviously you have the talent. ;)_

_From Dalton: Thanks! :D That's the dream, yes. Becoming an editor's a long way though. Should I succeed, however, do I have your permission to seek out and hire you? :)_

_To Dalton: Why do you think I brought this subject up? Wink, wink, nudge, nudge._

_From Dalton: What's your number one dream?_

_To Dalton: Become King of England. :P It's no dream, though._

_From Dalton: Lol, but be serious! I expect an unashamed, emotionally overcharged, soul-baring answer._

A tough request, if there ever was one.

_To Dalton: I haven't the faintest concerning my career, so I'm gonna go with the American dream? Successful business, loving partner, 2.5 kids? I guess it's a bit less specific and a hell lot more out of reach than yours._

_From Dalton: It's OK, I haven't got it all figured out either. But I disagree; someone as talented and captivating as you will make this come true in no time. I actually meant a dream after you turn 30. ;)_

Dalton might not have realized it, but sweet words like that simply made Kurt's heart melt.

He wondered how they could be so alike and found himself daydreaming about meeting Dalton. The only thing preventing him from proposing they meet was that he was scared. He was terrified that either Dalton would be a girl (not very likely based on the way Santana was referring to their conversations) or if he was a guy, he was straight and, by default, uninterested in Kurt. Truth be told, it was slightly alarming that when Kurt asked about his type, Dalton didn't specify the gender; there was no telling if Kurt had a chance or not. The suspense was all the worse because he, for one, wanted Dalton to be his boyfriend.

He was snapped out of his reverie by Blaine, who once again ignored a clear, direct and sensible order (namely: _'after putting something in the fridge, close the door and go back to the dishwasher, because there's not much space here and someone will trip and fall'_) and managed to cause a huge commotion.

After the shop had closed, Kurt asked Blaine to stay for another few minutes.

"About today… you might be interested to know that only five glasses broke as Steve crashed into you while you were taking a break in the door of the refrigerator. Luckily, he didn't injure himself and the damage altogether is not too horrendous, although I feel inclined to add that I give you no credit for that."

"I-I'm sorry, but I swear it was just a second. I opened the refrigerator, put the cream in and before I had a chance to close the door, Steve walked right into me."

Kurt pursed his lips. "You might measure time differently than I do. But anyway, I won't accept your excuses this time. I have given you countless chances, and yet every week something goes wrong and somehow, you're always right in the middle of it. I run a coffee shop, Blaine, not a mad-house and I don't understand how come it's always you who prevents things from running smoothly."

…

Blaine knew the second he heard Kurt's request that he was in some serious trouble this time. He was at a loss; it wasn't only his fault, yet Kurt never asked Steve to stay. He probably just wanted to fire Blaine and this was the perfect opportunity.

He thought back to a week before when he explained to the Cheerleader that his boss was picking on him. He was very sympathetic and advised Blaine to stand up to the manager. Blaine wasn't convinced this was a good idea, for the Cheerleader didn't know Kurt (didn't even know his name), so he couldn't know what the best possible advise would be.

_From Cheerleader: But what do you have to lose? It looks like this is headed for you being fired anyway, but maybe this way you could at least earn his respect. Or, what's even more important, you could earn your own. It'll be good for your self-esteem. Trust me._

Maybe the Cheerleader had a point. Blaine didn't know why Kurt was picking on him anyway. It's not like the others never made mistakes, and though Kurt pointed everything out, he was the harshest when it came to Blaine. At least that was how Blaine felt. Kurt always told him what to do, always corrected him, even though he only had to look at Blaine to completely turn him into a puddle of goo. It was very unfair that he kept screwing things up just because Kurt was there, and that's why Kurt never got to see how well he could function when Kurt wasn't around.

As he realized he was being given the beginning of the you're-fired speech, he decided to take the Cheerleader's advice, stand up to Kurt and tell him that he was actually a really good worker and Kurt had no right to fire him just because of one slip-up.

"You know what? That's so unfair. I work really hard and do my best and yet all you do is criticizing me. I'm sick of being treated like I'm some dumb guy who's incapable of taking care of his tasks. You know what, Kurt? You don't have to fire me, I quit. I quit," Blaine knew he was very close to yelling now. "And you and your sadistic ways can go to hell for all I care."

Kurt looked furious and didn't control the volume of his voice as he answered," Oh, my God, can't you see not everything's about you? You keep ruining everyone's hard work, you endanger our customers' health and you think that _you_ have the right to be upset? I should've fired you on your first week. You're so incompetent, it's like a joke. And I tried and tried to teach you, because I was so sure you had it in you, but no, you take offense and act like you're some sort of martyr."

Blaine, feeling very agitated, cut in, "Yeah, because you're the saint, who puts up with everyone. You want to know what you are, Kurt? You're a hypocrite, who doesn't give a damn about his employees, you just find some strange sort of satisfaction in torturing others. You've singled me out on my first day and ever since then you've been nothing but unhelpful to me-"

"How dare you? I tried helping you, and it was you who never wanted- who refused… I'm looking after all my employees here, Blaine," Kurt yelled, so frustrated tears were forming in his eyes. "You hinder their work and as the manager, I'm responsible for it all! It's easy for you to act like you're some innocent victim, but you never take the time to think about how hard everything's on me. What do you think the owner asks when I give him the list of our expenses? '_Pray tell me, Kurt, who broke these glasses while you were someplace else, working hard, as I know you do'_? Because that's not how it goes, Blaine. I'm responsible for everything here, for all the employees, including the damage they cause and if I don't do my job right, then my employer says to himself '_Kurt's not doing his job right with all these extra costs', _followed by the question '_why don't I just fire Kurt on the spot'_? And guess what? Keeping you on was not doing my job right."

Blaine knew Kurt was right, but it only made him madder. "And isn't it your job to help me learn things? So that I don't screw anything up?"

"I taught you everything! I always tell you how to do it right!"

"But I can't do it right _because_ you're there watching me and I'm too affected by you," Blaine was shaking now.

Kurt snapped, "All the more reason to fire you then," with that he walked away.

Blaine stayed there for another few minutes, but eventually realized there was nothing he could do. He wondered if he was in the wrong; true, Kurt had his responsibilities, but one of them was handling his employees and Kurt sure as hell wasn't handling Blaine well.

He sighed as his phone beeped.

_From Cheerleader: I know we've never talked about this before, but I had the most horrible day and I was hoping we could meet up. In person. Please?_

Blaine hesitated; this whole matter with Kurt had upset him enough, but maybe the Cheerleader could help him. A little support would feel nice. On the other hand, he didn't want one more disappointment today and having someone load all his problems on him didn't sound all that intriguing.

_To Cheerleader: I hope you'll understand where I'm coming from, but I'm not sure this is such a good idea. I mean, I don't want to be your go-to guy when your other friends are busy._

_From Cheerleader: Why would you think I'd use you like that?_

Had he made a terrible mistake accusing Kurt? He shouldn't have yelled, that was already clear, but maybe the entire argument was petty and selfish; maybe Blaine was so engrossed in his own personal bubble that he failed to realize how much responsibility Kurt had to deal with.

_To Cheerleader: Why haven't you asked for my name from Santana? She made it clear you didn't want to tell yours, but I never forbade her from telling you, so why not make an effort to get to know me, to strengthen our connection, before?_

Blain couldn't concentrate. He wasn't mad at Kurt anymore, he never could be. It was Blaine's own fault that he got so lightheaded every time Kurt so much as looked his way that he couldn't do his job. Kurt had been right, Blaine was never meant to work at _Café Noir_.

_From Cheerleader: Because usually I'm just scared you're not who I imagine you to be, but right now I actually really need a friend and as long as you show up at the Starbucks near the NYU entrance in an hour, you can have my whole life story for all I care._

If there was one thing Blaine knew about himself it was this: there was no way in hell he could turn down a friend asking for his company, even if all he wanted to do right now was curl up and die of heartache and regret.

_To Cheerleader: I'll be the one in red jeans._

Would he ever see Kurt again?

…

Kurt felt his throat tighten up as he walked into the coffee shop. He would finally meet Dalton. It was now or never. He sent up a prayer to every nonexistent deity begging for Dalton to be a gay male. He took a quick look around, but didn't see any red clothing. He blinked once, knowing it was his own eagerness preventing him from really taking in the sight, but he was falling for the guy on the other end of the line, for the boy behind the articles (_please, let him be a boy_), and even though he knew he was being stupid, he could do nothing to stop himself from developing feelings. He was scared it'd be another Finn or another Sam, but Dalton was the best thing that's happened to him ever since becoming a freshman at NYU.

He heard a choked sound from his left and upon turning, his eyes fell on one Blaine Anderson. Wearing the same red skinny jeans in which he had been working that day.

Kurt slowly approached Blaine who looked tired and uncomfortable and sat down. It terrified him that Blaine might be Dalton, that the person he's grown to trust and depend on was the guy who'd never, ever want to see him again, but there could be no mistake.

Blaine's eyes widened when Kurt pulled out the chair opposite him.

"So, I'm guessing you're Dalton…?"

Kurt watched Blaine's eyes grow wide as he processed Kurt's words. "Yes," he weekly nodded. "You're Santana's…?" he couldn't even finish the sentence, but Kurt understood anyway.

He whispered a yes then started to stand up, tears flooding his eyes. He'd lost Dalton. There'd be no late-night texts, no movie dates, no daydreams, no recommended videos on YouTube coming his way

from now on. "I, er, I think… I think I should go." The whole scenario hurt so much more now that he knew Dalton specifically loathed _him_, that he'd be here with anyone else gladly (they could even start dating, since Blaine was gay), just not with Kurt. Dalton could have been eligible to him, but he had just become as out of reach as possible. For Kurt, anyway.

…

Blaine didn't know what he was expecting. Sure, he liked the Cheerleader, but there was always the chance he'd never want to meet Blaine, so from early on he had refused to allow himself to indulge in fantasies. If the Cheerleader decided he wanted to, they could get together (it's not like he had a chance anymore with Kurt after all), but Blaine had to admit he wouldn't mind even if they remained only friends. The guys were right; the Cheerleader could be the cutest guy in the whole world, but for Blaine there wasn't anyone but Kurt. He figured it must have something to do with timing, for there was no logical reason for not liking the Cheerleader (they had so much in common and he was really the most amazing company), but he preferred Kurt. The Cheerleader could be good-looking, but Kurt was fabulous. The Cheerleader had a great sense of humor and he made Blaine laugh, but Kurt looked at him and he was paralyzed by all the feelings that short glance ignited in him.

He was in a daze as Kurt walked in and confessed he was the Cheerleader. He hadn't the faintest idea what he was supposed to say or do, how he should react. What did this mean for the two of them? Did it create a nuance of a chance that they could, perhaps, get together?

As Kurt stood up, a thought struck him; what was Kurt thinking? Did he want Blaine to be Dalton? Probably not (understandable), for he was leaving. However, Blaine couldn't give up so easily. He knew he must have meant something to Kurt, even if it was only as a mystical figure.

He raised his voice, determined to prove to Kurt that he wasn't just some incompetent, spoilt, whiny boy. "Wait. Don't… just don't go, ok?" He had to make Kurt see that he was worth a shot. There was no way he was letting this man go without a fight.

Fortunately, unlike his usual, confident self, Kurt now seemed confused and hesitant and sank back onto the seat again.

"Look, I-I know I'm probably not who you were expecting, but… just give me a moment of your time, ok?" Blaine tried very hard to conjure up the words he needed, but one look at Kurt's mesmerizing eyes and he was lost. "I'm sorry."

"Wh-why are you sorry? I'm the one who just fired you."

Blaine averted his gaze. "You were right though. I am a mess. I… I wasn't doing my job right and you had no choice. I'm so sorry for yelling at you. I hope you kno-"

Kurt instantly cut in, "You don't completely and utterly hate me then?"

At that Blaine's head snapped up. "Why would I hate you?" He watched as Kurt's worried expression turned into one of relief. "It's quite the opposite actually. I've liked you ever since my first day and I just can't help but look at you and think about you all the time and then I just mess everything up and…what?" he asked as Kurt grinned at him disbelievingly.

"You like me? Like, you don't want me out of here in record time?"

"I hope you'll never leave."

Kurt's face was shining with excitement. "I've wanted… God, I hoped Dalton would be real and gay and… and I can hardly believe it's you." He probably saw something flicker in Blaine's eyes, for he hurriedly added, "in the good sense. I know it's crazy, but I think I'm falling for you," he hesitated for a moment, looking apologetic, "for Dalton, I mean, and it's such a relief to know you're not just some fantasy. Our conversations have meant so much to me and I was so scared that you'd turn out to be some straight guy who would break my heart."

Relieved, Blaine closed his eyes as he exhaled the breath he'd been holding. "Then I guess we have a lot of catching up to do."

…

Kurt sometimes wondered how you could change from miserable to happy in mere seconds. Even months after their first official date, it never ceased to amaze him how lucky they were, even though every now and then it was difficult dating each other.

The hardest part was getting to know one another. Kurt had to learn to love Blaine, the boy he used to boss around and scold on a daily basis, while Blaine had to learn that Kurt wasn't quite as perfect as his mind liked to make him out to be.

As he opened the latest issue of the _Opinion_, however, and turned to page three, where he knew his boyfriend's article was, Kurt felt that it was all worth it in the end. They were together after all, they were disgustingly happy and even though he loved Blaine completely for who he really was, it still sent a shiver down his spine to think that Dalton was his boyfriend. He was dating the celebrity of NYU. Blaine might condemn him for his fantasies, but he just didn't get how hot it was to be going out with someone who was admired by the whole campus.

And besides, it's not like Blaine hadn't insisted on Kurt wearing his _Café Noir_ apron from time to time, when they were sure to have some privacy for an hour or two.

**The End**


End file.
